Kai #3
I can’t help but smile. She’s clever. Sharp.
Bites back like she has no reason to fear me, a refreshing shift from the usual silence and flinching I’ve grown used to.
Everyone else walks on eggshells around me.
She strides through them barefoot. “We can both captain our crews,” I say, tone even, decisive. “Together.”
Another nod seals it, and she turns toward the door without waiting for a response. But just before she reaches it, she pauses. She’s still glowing like a flame bottled in a lantern. She pivots, eyes lit with something wild and steady.
“By the way.” Her voice is soft, but commanding. “I want the side that overlooks the ocean.” A demand, not a request. She’s already claiming space.
“I’ll allow it,” I reply, masking the amusement behind a casual shrug.
“And we make for Magda,” she adds, already halfway gone. “I only trust one person to look over my ship.”
“Neressa,” I say before she can.
She glances back, a flicker of approval in her eyes.
“Yes.” Her eyes wander for a split second, “Also, Captain Kai,” she says, pausing in the doorway with her back still half-turned to me, “let’s get one thing straight.
” Her voice doesn’t rise, but it sharpens.
“No one controls me. I do what I want, when I want, and I’ll make whatever decisions I damn well please.
You don’t hold power over me. Not now. Not ever. ”
She meets my eyes then, like she’s daring me to argue. “As long as that’s understood, maybe this alliance has a shot.”
Then she turns fully, her hair catching the soft light from the pink and orange painted skies as it swings behind her, hips swaying with that same deliberate grace.
I watch, helpless against it, as she glides out of my quarters like the sea itself just parted for her.
My lips twitch again. A smile threatens. I catch it too late.
She’s gone. And I hate that I let any trace of that feeling show, even in private.
She heads back to The Siren to speak with her crew, to explain the shift in command.
I don’t envy her. Pirates hate change. Mine won’t take it well either.
They’ll bark, bite, maybe even draw blood.
Let them. I’m not here to entertain their opinions.
There’s more than enough room in the crew quarters, and if anyone has a problem with Mira or her crew, they’re welcome to try their luck with me, or whatever nightmare waits beneath a pirate ship.
Let them grumble. Let them fight. This alliance changes everything, and I’ll drown every last objection before I let it fall apart.
“We’ve got changes ahead,” I announce, stepping onto the quarterdeck where the crew’s already gathered. “Big ones. And you’re all going to need to be on board.”
A ripple moves through them, confusion, tension.
Arms cross, brows furrow. They know something’s coming, but not what.
“Why hasn’t their ship pulled off?” someone yells.
“Aye! Why’d you stop us from gutting them when we had the chance?
” Another, “They’ve got some damn nerve thinking they’re welcome aboard this vessel! ”
The crew erupts. Grumbles become shouts.
Frustration spills into fury. I let them go, let them bark, let them growl.
Let them show their teeth. Then Jay’s voice cuts through the noise.
“Enough!” he roars. “Let Captain Kai speak. Whatever he decides, it’s what’s best for us.
Don’t let your pride cloud the truth. And if you can’t trust your captain, your Pirate Lord, then go ahead and jump.
Swim to shore and pray the sharks show mercy.
” Silence drops like a guillotine. Jay’s loyalty hits me square in the chest. I nod once, sharp, thankful.
I look down at the crew gathered on the lower deck from the helm, weathered faces, narrowed eyes, every one of them itching for a fight.
“Captain Mira and I have formed an alliance,” I begin, voice steady, slicing through the murmurs of wind and sail.
“She holds information we don’t. Knowledge about the Fountain of Wishes.
She’s essential to our mission. And she needs protection. ” That word hangs. Protection.
“We’ve lost too many mates in recent battles,” I go on, my gaze drifting to the empty spaces where familiar faces once stood. “Her crew will help fill the gaps.” Silence falls. Among pirates, quiet never means peace. It means they’re weighing their odds, obedience or mutiny.
Finally, someone grunts from the crowd, voice low and wary. “So… they’re comin’ aboard here?”
“Yes.” Voice stern. “They’ll live among us until we reach the fountain.
That’s the deal. That’s the command.” A storm brews behind their eyes.
Murmurs rise like crashing waves, disbelief, resentment, anger.
I don’t need to hear every word. Their glares are loud enough.
Let them rage now, while she’s not aboard.
Let them spit their venom into the wind.
“They’ll board soon,” I declare, my voice cutting through the tension.
“And hear me clearly, if anyone lays a finger on them, speaks out of turn, or breathes wrong in their direction, you’ll walk the damn plank.
” I pause, just long enough for the silence to shiver down spines.
“And if anyone touches Mira or so much as looks at her sideways” —my voice lowers, ice cold now— “I will personally make sure you regret it.” The threat hangs heavy in the air, thick as fog.
They’ve seen what I’m capable of, what inhumane things I’m willing to do. “Understood?”
“Aye, Captain!” the crew answers in unison, tension clinging to every syllable.
“Then get back to work,” I snap, voice sharp, final. I lean against the rail overlooking the main deck, watching as the crew scatters back to their posts, boots thudding against wet wood.
“And what of yer father?” Jay says. I don’t answer right away. The thought of that man still breathing makes my stomach twist.
“No one is to tell him about Mira being on board,” I say finally, each word deliberate. “He’ll stop at nothing until her blood is spilled.”
Jay’s expression hardens, but he nods. I rake a hand through my hair, the sea’s dampness clinging to my fingers. “See to it no one speaks to him and no one new tends to him except the ones I’ve already approved.” I turn fully toward him, meeting his gaze. “Can I count on you to do that?”
“Aye, Cap’n. No one will tell him.”
I narrow my eyes. “And?”
“No one new will care for him,” Jay adds, more firmly this time.
I nod once. “Good. Then we’re in agreement.” My voice softens, barely. “She’ll be safe here.” Jay groans but obeys, trudging back toward his favorite post, the helm, where he’s spent more nights than his own bunk.
My gaze drifts over to The Siren where Mira stands on a pair of overturned rum barrels, commanding her crew with nothing but fire in her voice.
She’s ridiculously small, and yet she’s the first thing I see.
The only thing I see. By all accounts, no pirate should take her seriously.
But they do, every single one of them listens.
I realize, with a sharp twist in my gut, that I may have underestimated her far more than I should have.
I turn away, heading for my quarters, heart pounding like war drums in my chest. I’m always calm. Always in control. But with her it spikes. I need to prepare. She’ll be aboard soon. And nothing on this ship will ever be the same.